


Brothers Trust

by prohibitiongirl



Series: Trust Series [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Dirty Talk, F/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Sexting, Smut, again not by tom or you, angst isn't caused by tom or you but by someone you thought you could trust, contest winning, i'll add tags as i go okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-22 10:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15580392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prohibitiongirl/pseuds/prohibitiongirl
Summary: You enter the Brothers Trust contest on a whim, not expecting to win. But what happens when you do?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of the story I’ve changed the contest so only one person wins – obviously I don’t know if the person reading this would bring their best friend, a parent, or maybe a sibling, so I’ve decided to omit that part. I don’t know how the winner will actually be contacted so I made it be through an email. Even though this story is based off of a real thing that is happening, I don’t know how everything is going to play out in real life so I’m giving myself some creative freedom here.

August 1st, 2018

You are messing around on your phone when you get a notification from Instagram that user tomholland2013 just uploaded a new video. Hoping that it will be another video of him working out like he had posted a week or so before, you click on the notification and unmute the video. You’re surprised to see him in his Spider-Man costume.

“Hey what’s up guys it’s, uh, Tom Holland from the set of Spider-Man: Far From Home. I have an exciting announcement -- the Brothers Trust is going to be offering the opportunity for you to fly from anywhere around the world -- two people -- to come and hangout with me on set here with all the guys at Marvel. It’s gonna be amazing. We are gonna put you up in a West End hotel for three days, we’re gonna give you a thousand dollars spending money, you’re gonna get to hang out on set for a day with me, I’ll give you a signed photo, you can see the whole process; the hair and makeup, the costume, the filming, everything, and it’s gonna be amazing. So go to the Brothers Trust website...when I tell you to...because I don’t think we’ve announced the details yet but we will. And it will be amazing. So stay tuned and it will be great. Bye.”

Okay, so not a video of him punching something, but you are still pleased by the content. You click on his username and are brought to his account. Underneath the peace sign emoji and the verified symbol is a link that you click on. From there you skim the rules, find the free alternative form of entry (you decide that you’ll donate some money at some point) and fill out each question before submitting it. You fill out the form several more times until you get tired of the redundant process and eventually switch to doing something else on your phone.

August 5th, 2018

Another notification from Tom’s Instagram shows up on your phone and you click it quickly, pleased to find that it’s another video. He essentially repeats what he spoke about on the last video but this time he’s out of costume, dressed in a black shirt with a black bandana around his forehead, and he’s outside with Harrison. The video makes you smile as you head to the link once more to submit the rest of your remaining entries and also make a donation of $10. Since the contest didn’t end until August 24th, you didn’t think much about it after that. Until…

Brothers Trust

Winner

To: youremail@youremail.com

Reply-To: tomholland@thebrotherstrust.shop

Hey Y/N,

You’ve been picked as the winner for the Brothers Trust contest! Would you mind replying with the name of your closest airport so we can start to arrange for your trip to London?

Tom


	2. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You land safely in London and meet the entire Holland family for dinner.

The flight attendant’s voice snaps you out of your daydream as you stare out of the plane’s window. 

“Miss?” she repeats. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Oh, uh, just water is fine,” you answer. As she continues down the aisle you yawn, making you think that you should’ve gone for a drink with caffeine instead. But it’s too late for that so you stretch your arms in front of you and adjust yourself in your seat in an attempt to wake yourself up. 

Your phone is on the little fold-out tray table in front of you but you have no notifications when you check it due to it being on airplane mode. There’s no way you’re paying that much money for wifi. 

The flight attendant returns with your water and a cup of ice. You thank her and pour the water into the cup before taking a sip, suddenly becoming aware of how dry your throat felt. 

Like any average person, you were feeling a little nervous about the upcoming days. Tom had given you a vague outline via email about how the week was going to go. 

On the current day, which was Monday, September 3rd, you were to arrive in London around 2:30 in the afternoon. They would send a driver to pick you up at the airport and take you to the hotel, where you would have a few hours to relax before going out to dinner with the whole Holland family.

Tuesday would be the visit to the set and on Wednesday Tom would be showing you around London. Your flight back home would be on Thursday morning and you’d get back just in time to hurry to your first Thursday class of the semester. You knew that it wasn’t too important to go to the first class since the professor would likely just be going over the syllabus but you were already missing your first classes on Tuesday and Wednesday and you felt a little guilty about that. But hey, it was for Tom Holland!

You manage to take a decent nap on the remainder of the flight and find yourself being woken to the sound of everyone starting to get up from their seats. Since you were only going to be in London for a few days, you had managed to fit everything you needed into a bag that fit in the overhead bin, so after retrieving that you head straight for the transportation area instead of going to the baggage claim. 

When you step outside you look for a man holding a sign with your name on it, just as Tom had told you there would be. He’s standing by the front door of a vehicle and immediately rushes forward to help you with your bag once he sees you walking towards him. 

“Thank you,” you say, unused to this type of treatment. 

“Not a problem, miss,” he says in return, opening the back door of the vehicle for you to get inside. After you’re buckled he gets into the driver’s seat and pulls off of the curb, leaving the busy airport behind. 

The trip to the hotel doesn’t feel very long since you’re on your phone checking out all the things that have happened in the world since you’ve been up in the air and texting your family and friends to let them know that you landed safely. When you get there, the driver opens the door for you again and gets your bag from the back. You follow him into the hotel and up to the check-in counter where you present your ID for verification and are given a couple of key cards in return. You insist to the driver that you can take your bag from there, but he’s adamant about carrying it to your room and so you take the elevator with him. 

“I will also be driving you to dinner,” he explains, finally handing you your bag once you’re outside of your room. “I will come get you when just before six.”

“Thank you so much,” you say gratefully, sliding the key card into the slot and opening up the door to the bedroom you’d be staying in for the next three nights. 

The room is gorgeous; nicer than the one you have at home and much nicer that the dorm room you’d be returning to. You set your bag on the desk chair and collapse stomach-first onto the bed, your body bouncing a little from the impact. You give yourself a few minutes to relax like that until you look over at the digital clock on the nightstand. It’s 3:15.

Figuring that you should probably take a shower in order to look your best for the Holland family, you take out your travel-size toiletries from your bag and bring them into the luxurious bathroom. You shed your clothes and hop into the shower, taking your time doing your usual routine. When you’re done you wrap a big fluffy towel around yourself and dry your hair.

Because you had a limited amount of space in your luggage for clothing and you knew it would be unreasonable to bring half of your closet with you, your brought four complete outfits with you: something a little dressier for the dinner, two cute but casual outfits for the day on set and the day around London, and more comfortable clothes to wear on the plane back home. You unfold the dressier clothes and lie them out on the bed. You still have plenty of time before dinner so you absentmindedly flip through some TV channels.

When it gets closer to six you return to the bathroom and do everything to your hair and face that makes you feel most confident about yourself. Then you put on your clothes and shoes and as you’re assessing yourself in the mirror, someone knocks at your door. You grab your phone and room card and swing the door open. The driver leads you through the hotel and into the lot where he’s parked. You get into the car and anxiously clasp your hands together as he starts to drive. 

The Holland family selected a restaurant near the hotel so the ride wasn’t too long. You almost wished it could be a little longer so you could get your nerves under control, but you also realistically knew that you wouldn’t be able to be totally calm no matter how long the ride was. 

The driver, sensing your nervousness, tells you that everything is going to be fine as he gets out of the car and opens your door for you. 

“I’m just coming in with you so they know you’re you and not some random person,” he explains as he walks with you up to the restaurant. He holds open that door for you as well and you step inside the waiting area, eyes immediately settling upon Tom, who is sitting on a long bench with all the members of his family. 

“Here she is,” the driver declares to the group, then in a lower voice so only you can hear, says, “enjoy your dinner and remember that everything is going to be okay!” 

You’re glad that the family approaches you because you’re pretty sure you’ve forgotten how to walk. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Tom says at the same time you say nearly the same thing. 

He laughs and you shake his hand. 

“These are my brothers,” he explains, gesturing to them once he releases your hand. “Harry, Sam, and Paddy. And these are my parents,” he gestures to them too, “Nikki and Dom.”

You knew this already but you obviously don’t say that, instead shaking their hands as well. 

A hostess guides the seven of you towards the back of the restaurant to a large circular table. Tom pulls out a chair for you which makes your heart beat faster and he sits to your left, with Nikki sitting to your right. 

“How was the flight over here?” Dom asks as he flips through the one of the menus the hostess put in front of each person. 

“It was good,” you say, biting your tongue before you instinctively go to ask how theirs was. 

“Do you go to school?” Nikki asks. You can tell she’s excited to have another female to talk to amongst her family of testosterone. 

You nod. “I do. My first day of classes for the semester is actually tomorrow, but the professors never really do anything on the first day besides go over general expectations so I’m okay with missing the first couple of days.”

The Hollands keep asking you various questions throughout the evening. They seem to be genuinely interested in your answers and you find it easy to talk and laugh with them. Regardless of which person you’re talking to you can feel Tom’s gaze on you but you assume he’s just being polite. 

You leave the restaurant with the family several hours later feeling much less nervous than you did when you first got there. The nap from earlier has worn off and you’re ready to crawl under the bed covers and rest up for your day on set tomorrow. 

Outside of the building you hug Nikki and Dom and each of their sons. You can’t see it but Harry and Sam are behind you winking and giving thumbs-up to Tom as you hug their older brother. 

“See you tomorrow on set!” he says when you both pull away from the short embrace. 

You smile as a response, say goodbye to everyone once again, and get into the back of the same car as before. 

The driver twists his head to be able to look at you. 

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” you say, relaxing into the seat. You close your eyes and sigh peacefully. It feels like you’re dreaming but you know you’re not. “Yeah, I did.”


	3. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re fascinated by everything on the set of Spider-Man: Far From Home but you start feeling a little insecure after taking an awkward photo with Tom. Zendaya boosts your confidence in the bathroom because women helping other women is the best.

You wake up to the sound of your phone’s alarm and immediately panic a little because you don’t recognize your surroundings. It takes several moments for you to remember that you’re in London and that today is the day you’re going to the set of Spider-Man: Far From Home.

You grin to yourself as you change out of your sleeping clothes and into one of the outfits you packed. You brush your teeth and head to the lobby for a quick breakfast.

You’re feeling significantly less nervous now than you were last night. Everything went well with Tom and because of that you feel confident that everything will go well with his friends and co-stars too. You’re also super excited to learn more about what goes on behind the scenes of such a big movie. You imagine that you’ll learn a lot more here than you would have if you were back home attending your first day of class.

The driver pulls up to the curb of a rather unassuming brick building. You knew that the building where they filmed wouldn’t be painted in blue and red with spider web designs and the words Spider-Man: Far From Home plastered everywhere but this place looked like any other boring building. You wonder how many little boys and girls have walked past the structure wearing their Spider-Man t-shirts with no idea that a movie starring their favorite superhero would be filmed there.

Someone saying your name distracts you from your thoughts. You look in the direction of the voice but you already know who it is, because who the hell else would it be, and you’ve watched countless interviews of him so you’re pretty familiar with the sound of his voice.

Tom beckons you closer with a wave of his hand, his free one clutched around a cup of coffee.

“Welcome to the set,” he says with a smile that makes your heart melt. “This is Harrison.”

Harrison, who is standing beside him, raises his hand in greeting.

“Do you want any coffee before we start? Harrison can go get you some. That’s essentially what he’s here to do,” Tom teases.

You shake your head, not wanting to be an inconvenience to anyone.

“Then let’s get started.”

You’re blown away by the whole thing. There’s not one step in the whole process that doesn’t leave you completely in awe of how talented each and every person on set is at their craft. Transforming Tom into Spider-Man is tedious but you watch what everyone is doing with fascination. When the filming finally begins, you stand off to the side and observe as Tom and the other actors do their magic.

“You know, he thinks you’re pretty,” Harrison says, approaching you from your left. “He told us in the groupchat last night.”

You look at him out of the corner of your eye. He seems serious.

“Tom’s a sweetheart,” you say. “He’s the kind of guy who could find beauty in any girl.”

“He is,” Harrison agrees. “But he really thinks you’re pretty. And just a good person to be around.”

“He’ll forget about me once I go back home.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Harrison walks away leaving you with only your own thoughts to keep you company as you silently watch the rest of that morning’s filming.

Tom has just finished doing an amazing stunt all on his own when someone calls for a lunch break. He carefully pulls off the mask and comes toward you, wiping away beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

“That was incredible,” you say, unable to tone down your excitement.

He smiles at you. “Thanks. So, you ready for lunch?”

“Wait!” Nikki says, coming up to both of you with a camera in her hands. “Let me take a picture while you’re still in costume.”

Tom hands his mask over to Harrison. There’s a brief moment of awkwardness where you look at each other, unsure of what to do.

“Put your arm around her, dumbass,” Harrison says, whipping the mask across Tom’s upper arm to get him into motion.

He does so, his hand gently settling on your shoulder as if he’s nervous to fully touch you. Thinking it would be weird to just have your arms dangling at your sides, you move the hand between your two bodies to rest gently on his back. You smile, hyper-aware of all the places your bodies are touching: his hand on your shoulder, yours on his back, and your leg up against his as Nikki snaps a few photos.

She goes through them on the small screen of the camera and nods her approval. “Lunch is already in your trailer.”

You drop your arm back to your side as Tom does the same, his fingertips brushing your back as he does so.

“As I was saying,” he continues. “You ready for lunch?”

“Can I use the bathroom first?” you ask. You don’t really care what he says -- you need a moment alone to collect yourself.

“Yeah.” He points in the direction of the bathroom and you hurry off. There’s two stalls but you’re glad to find that you’re alone when you fling open the door and close it behind you. You stand in front of one of the sinks and douse your hands in cold water.

The door opens and you keep your head down and stare at your fingers as you wait for the stranger to go into one of the stalls. When she doesn’t, you glance over at her to find that she’s looking right at you.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she says, taking a step closer. “I’m Zendaya.”

You remove your hand from the stream of water to extend it to her for a handshake. Of course it’s dripping wet so you immediately turn the faucet off, grab a paper towel, and thoroughly dry them. Then you extend your hand again. 

“I’m Y/N,” you say as she shakes your hand. “And it’s nice to meet you.”

“Fan of Tom?” she asks, leaning against the other sink.

You nod. “And you, too. Everyone, actually. You’re all incredible.”

She smiles at you. “Harrison wasn’t lying, you know.” When you look a little puzzled, she adds, “about Tom talking about you in the groupchat.”

“How many damn people are in this groupchat?”

“There’s multiple chats, actually,” she explains with a laugh. “There’s one with Tom, his brothers, and Harrison. The one I’m in has Tom, Harrison, and Jacob, but then there’s also one with just those three. Harry kept sneakily taking photos of Tom looking at you during the dinner you had with his family last night and sending them to their groupchat. Harrison then screenshotted the pictures and sent them to the groupchat with me so I could give my female opinion.”

It took you a moment to wrap your head around her story.

“And I told Harrison that Tom seemed to be looking at you in a different way than he looks at other people,” she continues. “And then after dinner he kept sending texts about how sweet you were and how excited he was to spend a couple more days with you.”

You look at her, speechless.

“I just thought you should know,” she says. “I can tell you’re nervous and there’s no need to be.”

Are you really getting a pep talk from Zendaya right now?

“You’re beautiful. You’re smart. You’re funny. And you’re going to go have lunch with Tom in his trailer right now,” she says, determined.

You really are getting a pep talk from Zendaya right now.

She opens the door for you. You blink at her.

“Thank you,” you say, feeling pretty lame, but you’re not sure what else to say.

“No problem,” she pats you on the shoulder as you walk through the door.

You find Tom in the same spot where you left him.

“Let’s try this again,” he laughs when you approach him. “Are you ready for lunch?”

You nod and follow him as he guides you to his trailer, feeling more confident than before.

***

That night you’re relaxing in the bathtub, reflecting on the day when you suddenly remember that you haven’t checked your phone since the early morning. Everything was so busy that it slipped your mind. Sitting up, you dry your hands with the towel that you put near the tub and reach for your phone. It has less than half of its battery life left which you find odd since you know haven’t touched it all day.

A quick glance at your Instagram page tells you everything that you need to know.

The battery is so low because of your phone screen constantly lighting up from all the new notifications. You have thousands of new followers, hundreds of comments on all your posts, and seemingly every Tom Holland fan account has reposted and tagged you in the photo that Nikki took of you and posted to the Brothers Trust Instagram account. People are sliding into your DMs left and right but you don’t bear to look, knowing how crazy the fans could sometimes be. You decide to temporarily uninstall the app. You’ll deal with your newfound and hopefully temporary popularity when you get home. At the moment you need to get rest for your last full day in London tomorrow.


	4. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spend the day with Tom at an arcade but when his plans for afterwards get ruined by the rain, you suggest that you go back to your hotel room to watch some movies. You and Tom alone in a hotel room...what will happen?

You wake up a couple of hours before you set your alarm to go off. You’re not sure why you woke up so early but when you try to fall back asleep, you’re unable to do so. Feeling defeated, you sit up in bed and flip through the television channels, eventually choosing something random just to have something playing in the background while you think.

You’re going to be alone with Tom today. The thought both excites and terrifies you. There will be no Zendaya there to pull you to the side and boost your confidence if you need it, but you think that you might feel more comfortable with less people around.

You get dressed and go down to the lobby like the previous day to have breakfast. When you finish, you’re driven to an arcade. The driver tells you that Tom is already inside and when you push open the doors you recognize the place from Tom’s Instagram at the beginning of August.

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” he says in greeting.

“Hmm?”

“At these games,” he explains. “You better put up your best fight.”

You fake a gasp. “I’m offended that you think I wouldn’t give it my all!”

“Then show me what you’ve got, love.”

You follow him to an air hockey table. He puts some coins into it and takes one side of the table while you take the other. You let out a sigh of relief when you see that the puck is on your side. You pick it up and place it on the table, taking a second to consider your options before you hit the disk so it bounces against the right edge of the table. He hits it back and you send it flying to him with your striker.

This goes on for another minute until you make the mistake of looking across the table at Tom. The tip of his tongue is poking out of his lips in concentration and the muscles in his arm flex beautifully as he hits the puck. A second later you hear the sound of the pick clattering into your slot. Tom raises his perfect arms triumphantly.

Annoyed that you got distracted, you wait for Tom to stop celebrating before you hurl the puck back over to him. Even though he tries to stop it, it slides into his slot. You grin and hunch slightly over the table, preparing for his next move.

The puck glides back and forth between you two rapidly. You score again, then he does, then you do twice more. You accidentally push the puck into your own slot but quickly score when Tom is busy laughing at your mistake. He scores again and then you do two times again in quick succession, ending the game with you winning 7-4.

“Yes!” you cheer, releasing the vice-like grip you had on your striker.

“Good job,” Tom says, approaching you with his hand raised. You slap yours against it and grin.

“What else can I kick your ass at?”

You and Tom spend the next several hours playing various arcade games like the original Pac-Man, Donkey Kong, and Tetris. Just as you’re leaving, a crane game catches the corner of your eye and you stop to stare at it.

“Those things are rigged,” Tom says, following your gaze to the machine.

You don’t listen to him and walk up to it, sliding some coins into the slot. The machine turns on and lights up, playing a little jingle as you maneuver the joystick left and right. You press the red button and the claw is lowered and closes around nothing, the machine playing a losing noise and encouraging you to play again.

“I told you,” Tom says from behind you.

You sigh but insert some more coins into the machine. You position the claw in a slightly different way this time and press the button once more. The claw grasps at the item and pulls it up. It moves over to the side of the machine and releases it. You gleefully crouch down and retrieve your prize: a fuzzy stuffed spider. You laugh as you toss it over your shoulder so it hits Tom’s arm. He shrieks in surprise which just causes you to laugh more.

“Not funny,” he says, bending over to pick it up and give it back to you, but even he is laughing.

You finally leave the arcade and find that it’s absolutely pouring outside.

“Ah, I was going to take you to this park that I really like,” he frowns. “I guess that’s ruined.”

“We could, uh,” you hesitate, unsure if you should suggest what you’re thinking. “We could go back to my hotel and watch movies…”

Tom seems surprised that you would make such a suggestion but he smiles.

“That sounds great.”

He drives the two of you back to your hotel and there’s a very prominent voice in your head that’s telling you, holy shit, I’m in Tom Holland’s car!

You get to the hotel and sit with your back against the headboard and your legs stretched out in front of you. Tom sits on the edge of the bed as if he’s nervous to get closer but eventually he gets more comfortable and sits the same way as you.

Halfway through the first movie you and Tom decide to order room service for dinner. You enjoy your food and trade comments about the movie. With a full stomach and the comforting presence of Tom beside you, you fall asleep.

You wake up several hours later, surprised to find Tom asleep just inches away from you. He stirs awake as you sit up to check the clock on the bedside table. Tom looks over at the clock too.

“Damn,” he says, sitting up. “Nearly midnight. Sorry for falling asleep. I didn’t get much rest last night.”

“Me neither,” you confess.

He looks down at his lap. “I should probably get back home.”

You swallow hard, realizing that this is the last time you’ll see him since your flight back home is early tomorrow morning.

“I had an amazing time,” you say. “Thank you so much.”

He looks at you. “Me too.”

You stand up from the bed and he does the same. He walks around the bed so he’s standing in front of you.

Your breathing quickens and his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck. He hooks his other arm around your waist.

You close your eyes to prepare for the kiss but it doesn’t come. You open your eyes again.

“Uh,” Tom says. The hand on your neck falls to your upper back and the one on your waist joins it. He hugs you close and you awkwardly reciprocate his actions.

“Have a safe trip home,” he says when he releases you.

You nod. It feels like something is stuck in your throat.

He walks to the door and looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Tom.”

You stand still for several long minutes just staring at the door. Then you head to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Once that is done you tuck yourself under the covers, eyes squeezed tightly shut, the faint scent of Tom filling your nose each time you take a shaky breath.


	5. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defeated from the previous night, you find yourself very sulky during the ride to the airport but Tom comes and tries to make amends.

Nobody is around to hear you but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a dramatic sigh as you collapse onto the hotel bed. You’ve just finished throwing all of your belongings into your bag and now you’re waiting for your ride to the airport. You woke up early in the morning because you were asleep for hours beside Tom before you really went to bed.

Tom.

Tom Holland.

Tom Holland who didn’t kiss you.

What sucked the most was that you thought it was going to happen. You didn’t think you’d get to kiss him when you entered the contest. You didn’t think you’d actually win when you entered the contest. But with what Harrison and Zendaya told you, combined with that downright intimate moment, you really thought he was going to kiss you. He made you feel like it was going to happen and then he took that away.

You flip the hood of your sweatshirt up and tighten the strings so it covers more of your face. You check the room and bathroom to make sure you’ve gotten everything, haul your bag over your shoulder, and head out without looking back. The room reminds you of what could have been and you’re excited to be leaving.

You check out of the hotel and find your ride parked in front. You climb into the backseat and can’t help but crack a smile when he cheerfully says good morning.

At least he’s never let you down.

He drives you to the airport and opens the door for you.

“Thanks for carting my ass around the past few days,” you say, extending your hand to him.

He shakes it. “It was my pleasure. Have a safe trip home.”

You walk through the automatic doors and immediately head for security to get it out of the way. Despite the early hour the airport is already busy and you move through the line slowly. You’ve only moved a few feet when you hear someone say your name. You look around and spot Tom who is jumping up and down and waving his arms wildly to catch your attention. He gestures you over and as much as you wish you could ignore him, you find yourself squeezing past the people in line who were behind you to go over to him.

“Mum forgot to give you this,” he says when you’re near. “It’s the picture we took on set.”

He hands you the picture. It’s rolled up into a tube and secured by a rubber band so it won’t get crumpled up when it’s put in your bag.

“Thanks.” You take a deep breath, preparing to say that you’re going to miss your flight if you don’t get through security as soon as possible but you know that he’ll know that that’s a damn lie. You were paranoid about missing your flight so you insisted on arriving hours ahead, leaving you with plenty of time to continue talking to him. But you don’t want to.

“I should have kissed you,” he says, voice a little lower so he can be absolutely sure that only you can hear him.

“Yeah,” you say. “You should have.”

“And now I can’t,” he continues. “Because we’re in the middle of an airport and it’s too risky.”

You smile sadly. “Harrison was right. You are a dumbass.”

He laughs.

“I never thought I’d meet you,” you tell him. “And if I did meet you, I figured I would pretend to not know who you are. You know, pretend I wasn’t a fan.”

“Oh, you’re definitely a fan. Entered the contest all fifty times,” he teases.

You roll your eyes.

“I didn’t not kiss you because you’re a fan,” Tom says but he seems confused by his own double negatives. “I mean, you being a fan has nothing to do with why I didn’t kiss you. I was scared.”

“It’s only a kiss, Tom.”

“That’s why I was scared -- I was afraid I would want more once I had one.”

You resist the urge to cup his face into your hands and kiss him right there. Instead you hug him but this time it’s much less awkward than the one you shared the previous night.

“That’s okay,” you mumble into his shirt. “I feel a lot better now that you told me how you feel.”

He doesn’t say anything but he wraps his arms around you and that’s all that matters.

You pull away and stick the photo into your bag.

“I should go,” you say. The security line has nearly doubled in size in the few minutes you’ve been talking to Tom.

He smiles at you. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

You get back into line and Tom watches you for a minute or two before he waves a final goodbye and leaves. You eventually get through security and board your flight without any issues.

You reach into your bag for something to read when your fingers brush against the picture. Taking off the rubber band and unrolling it, you smile when you see Tom and you on set. You both look a little awkward but in a cute way. Your smile gets wider when you see how he signed it.

Y/N,

Keep in touch. I mean it!

Tom

Below his signature is his phone number. You cozy up into your sweatshirt and trace your fingers over his smiling lips on the paper.

You’re going to kiss him one day. You’re sure of it.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been several weeks since you left London. Classes are in full swing and despite both of your busy schedules, you and Tom find ways to keep in contact through texting, Snapchat, and Skype. One night on Skype things get sexual.

Adjusting to going back to school is already a challenge after you’ve spent the summer doing nothing academic. Adjusting to going back to school after you’ve just spent the most incredible three days in London with Tom Holland is even harder.

When you got to your dorm on the 6th of September you and your roommate ordered a bunch of food and spent the evening going through all of your social medias since Nikki had posted that photo of you and Tom.

Instagram seemed to be the platform where you were getting the most attention. People screenshotted selfies that had been on your account for ages and edited them with various cute filters. They posted these photos with captions like “omg @yourinstagramname is so pretty <3 <3." A few fan pages dedicated to you had even popped up.

Some people just cropped you out of the photo before they reposted it but that didn’t annoy you. Some people were just bitter and jealous but you did your best to not let it bother you.

Since your roommate didn’t particularly care about Tom or Marvel in general, you felt comfortable telling her the majority of what happened. She would catch you staring at the picture of you and Tom that you put on the wall and make exaggerated kissing noises, prompting you to laugh and throw one of your pillows at her.

You and Tom quickly developed a fairly regular talking schedule. You text often and he sends you shirtless Snapchats that make you forget how to breathe. Sometimes you even video chat on Skype.

It’s late Thursday night and you and Tom are Skyping. You’re doing some reading for your Friday morning class and Tom is just sitting around before he has to go to set for the day. You like having each other’s presence even if neither of you are saying anything and that’s exactly what you’re doing now.

You’ve been reading the same book for your class for hours. You want nothing more than to throw the book to the side and sleep but you know your professor will give you a pop quiz on the content.

You’re laying with your stomach on the bed’s mattress when you look over at your laptop to see if Tom is still there. Your camera is focused on the curve of your ass and you can tell that Tom is staring at it. You wiggle it which makes him snap out of his trancelike state.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes immediately.

You mark where you are in your book, set it on your nightstand, and sit up.

“Like what you see, Tommy?” you ask teasingly. The shorts that you wear to sleep leave most of your thighs exposed and he can see your nipples through the thin material of your t-shirt. You’re immediately thankful that your roommate doesn’t have any classes on Friday and has already gone home for the weekend.

He licks his lips and nods.

“Should I take this off?” you ask innocently, cupping yourself through your shirt.

He nods again.

“Too scared to kiss me, too scared to have Skype sex with me,” you taunt, hoping to elicit a verbal response out of him.

And boy does it work.

“So mouthy,” he says with his voice low, tugging off his shirt and moving his laptop back so you can see more of his body. He’s hard. “Is your roommate gone?”

“No, Tom, I’m dirty talking to you with my hands on my tits while my roommate is here. Of course she’s gone!”

“Just figured I’d ask,” he says calmly. “Bet you’re a dirty girl who would love someone to watch you put on a show for me.”

Your breath hitches.

“Not my roommate…I live with her. That would make things awkward.”

“But you’d be open to someone else that you maybe don’t know as well?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm. I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He trails his hand down his bare chest. “Shirt off. Now.”

You do as he says and toss it on the floor.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Wanna take the rest of your clothes off for me? Only if you’re comfortable.”

His kindness makes you smile as you lift your hips and slide your shorts and underwear down in one movement. You sit back and remove them completely but cross your legs so you’re still covered just to tease him.

“Come on,” he says with an edge to his voice that’s so incredibly sexy. “Show me.”

You slowly uncross your legs and spread them wide so he can see.

He swears and stands up quickly to rid himself of the rest of his clothes. His cock springs free and your breath catches in your throat as you imagine the warm weight of it in your hands, your mouth, your inner leg as he moves up your body to kiss you after he goes down on you…

“Like what you see?” He smirks.

You nod, licking your lips without even realizing it. “I do.”

He licks his palm and starts to stroke himself. Your fingers barely graze over your clit and your hips buck up automatically, seeking a firmer touch.

“Can’t stop thinking about the way you looked when we were playing air hockey,” he groans. “Should’ve ditched the game and just fucked you over the table.”

You gasp at his admission, finally touching your clit while the pointer finger of your other hands slides into you.

“Tom,” you whine, adding another finger and spreading your legs even wider, the stretch adding a small amount of pain alongside the pleasure. “Tell me how you’ll fuck me. Make me come.”

“Gonna take you to a hotel,” he explains, his free hand cupping his balls as he continues to stroke himself steadily. “The same room you stayed in so I can make it up to you. You’ll finally get your kiss, love – you’ll get kisses everywhere. Going to spend hours between your legs until you’re absolutely begging for my cock. And then I’ll finally give it to you: while you’re on your back, on your hands and knees, with you on top of me, against the wall.”

He’s stroking himself so fast that the camera can’t keep up. The image gets blurred and pixelated but his words are more than enough to get you off and you come on your fingers, a moan still escaping your lips even though you bite them in an attempt to stay quiet.

He comes right afterwards but, unfortunately for you, is more successful at keeping quiet. The image returns to normal when he stops moving so fast and he adjusts his camera so it’s on his face.

“I gotta go get ready,” he says, sounding slightly out of breath.

You nod. “Talk later?”

“Definitely. Sleep well.”

You hang up and lay on your bed for a minute in an attempt to catch your own breath. You look over to the book that you haven’t finished and scowl, pushing it off the table and onto the floor so you don’t have to look at it. You decide you’ll skim it before class starts and hope that it will work.

You get up on shaky legs and go to retrieve your clothes but, remembering that you have the room to yourself, you decide to remain naked. You shut off the overhead light and crawl back into bed. You grab your phone to set an alarm for the morning and see that you have a Snapchat notification from Tom.

It’s a picture of his cum-covered stomach with the message “thanks ;)" written across it.

You reluctantly turn off your phone and lay your head on your pillow, resisting the urge to get off again but when you close your eyes all you can see is Tom’s perfect body.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Tom define your relationship.

It’s the middle of November when a boy from your quantitative reasoning class asks you if you’d like to get dinner with him off campus tomorrow night.

Off campus. Tomorrow. A Friday night.

“Like a date,” he says as if he can read your thoughts. “I’d like to take you out on a date.”

He’s cute, sure, but not a Tom Holland level of cute.

“I told my roommate I was going to go with her to some frat party,” you lie.

“Phi Psi?”

You nod slowly. You don’t know the different fraternities on your campus and you don’t

particularly care about them either.

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to hit that up afterwards,” he laughs.

“My roommate needs me to help her do her hair so that will take up all of dinnertime,” you continue to lie.

He looks disappointed. “Ah, that sucks. I’ll have to be sure to find you at the party.”

You force a smile. “Definitely!”

A million thoughts race through your head as you walk to your dorm. You’re mostly annoyed that you’ve gotten yourself into going to a stupid frat party but you’re also confused about what you and Tom are, which isn’t something you had really thought about before.

The guy that had asked you out was definitely someone you would have gone out with months ago before you got “involved” with Tom Holland. He was cute and had thoughtful contributions to topics in class. He’s someone that you could imagine walking to and from class with, eating dinner with at the dining hall, having late night study dates with in the library.

And that’s not something you could have with Tom.

You need to have a discussion with him about the state of your relationship. You know it will be uncomfortable and awkward to initiate the conversation but you know it’s something that needs to be done.

…And naturally it’s something that you put off until the next afternoon, just hours before you’re going to leave.

You swear as your call to Tom goes to his voicemail. You suddenly remember earlier in the week that Tom told you that he had a night scene that he would be filming on Friday. Dammit.

You had a general idea of what you wanted to say to Tom but the lack of answer throws you off and you find that your mind is blank when the phone beeps, allowing your message to start.

“Uh…hey, Tom. It’s me. I know you’re on set but I have something that I want to talk about with you.” You pause, realizing how anxious you would be if someone left you a message saying they wanted to talk to you but didn’t mention about what. “I just think it might be time to define our relationship. I’m going out tonight but maybe we could talk tomorrow? Thanks and I’ll, um, talk to you later.”

You hang up the phone and put your head in your hand. That was definitely the strangest and most risky voicemail you had ever left someone. You’re still sitting on your bed thinking about what can of worms you may have just been opened when your roommate comes in.

“I’m coming with you to the Psi Phi party tonight,” you say.

She laughs. “You mean Phi Psi?”

“Yeah. That one.”

“You were never interested in them when I dragged you along last year.” She looks at you curiously. “Why are you going to this one?”

“Just thought it might be fun,” you say jokingly. “Nah. This guy from my quantitative reasoning class asked me on a date but I said that I was going to the party with you because I’m not sure where Tom and I stand in our relationship so I’m not sure whether or not I could tell him that I’m dating someone already but this guy’s also going to the party so now I have to be there because he’s expecting to see me.”

She nods slowly. “Complicated.”

“Just a little. Oh, I also need you to do your hair really elaborate because I told him I wouldn’t have time to see him before the party because I would be helping you get ready.

She puts her hands on her hips. “Anything else you need to tell me?”

“…Can I borrow a pair of your shoes?”

She groans your name but you see her smile as she grabs her shower stuff and heads to the bathroom.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

Hours later you’re at the party and you’re ready to go home. You were ready to leave about half an hour after you got there because of the suffocating heat in the basement you were in but now, an hour after you and your roommate had arrived, you were really ready to leave; you had just seen a drunk guy pee in a corner of the room. Gross.

You instinctively reach into your pocket for your phone but remember that you gave it to your roommate when you had gotten there. Your pockets weren’t really deep enough to hold it and you were worried about it falling out of them so you had given it to her to keep in her purse. Besides, if you had the phone on you, you know you’d just be checking it every other minute to see if Tom had texted you.

You look around for your roommate but you can’t see her amidst the crowd of people and flashing lights. She had left your side ten minutes before to go say hi to someone from her journalism class but she promised that she would be right back. Liar.

“You know, I find these parties to be a lot more tolerable when I’m not sober,” a voice says from behind you. You turn around to find that it’s the guy from your quantitative reasoning class. He’s holding out his red solo cup to you. “Want some?”

You shake your head. You knew not to take drinks from anyone at a party and you also didn’t want to be hungover for your conversation with Tom tomorrow.

“Thanks though.”

He shrugs and takes a sip of it, making a funny face as the liquor slides down his throat. You laugh. A couple next to you is making out like their lives depend on it.

“It’s like a trainwreck,” you say. “I can’t look away.”

“You should dance with me. That will distract you,” he suggests.

“I’m not really sure how to dance to this kind of music without looking like,” you gesture to the couple on your other side who are grinding as if nobody else is around, “that.”

“I don’t either,” he says, starting to step from side to side and letting his body move freely. “Let’s just make something up.”

You copy his actions. You feel absolutely ridiculous but you know that nobody is paying attention to you. This continues for awhile longer until your roommate finally stumbles back over to you, her hair disheveled and her lipstick smudged.

“Sorry,” she slurs. “Got distracted by something.”

“More like someone,” you roll your eyes, wiping away some of the lipstick with your thumb. “Are you ready to go?”

She nods, swaying where she stands.

You turn back to the guy from your class. “I should get her back to the dorm. It was cool to see you. I had fun.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking a little upset that you’re leaving but you can tell he understands. “I’ll see you in class.”

You guide your roommate up the stairs and out of the house with your hand on her elbow to keep her steady. You reach into her purse and retrieve your phone, getting an Uber to come pick you up because you’re positive that she won’t be able to walk the entire way back to campus.

When you get back to your dorm you take off her makeup with a wipe and tuck her into bed. You go to take a quick shower and when you come back you have a new message from Tom. You really want to throw yourself onto your bed and sleep but you want to get this conversation over with even more than that. You throw on some clothes and leave your room to not disturb your roommate. Once you’re outside of the entire building you check Tom’s message.

It wasn’t very cool of you to send those videos.

You reread his message again. You have no idea what he’s talking about but instead of typing something back, you decide to call him.

“Hey,” he answers. He sounds even more tired than you are.

“I have no idea what you mean,” you say. “I didn’t send you any videos.”

“Yes you did. Videos of you and that guy dancing. You didn’t even give me a chance to respond to your voicemail before you threw yourself at some other guy.”

You’re silent for a minute while you check your Snapchat conversation with Tom and find three videos that he opened and didn’t respond to.

“Tom. Who was in these videos?”

“You and the guy.”

“Could you see both of my hands?” you ask.

“Yeah. Not sure what that has anything to do with this though. Look, I just wish you had given me a chance to-”

“Tom,” you repeat, interrupting him. “Think for a minute. How did I send you these videos if you could see both of my hands, meaning I clearly wasn’t the one taking the video?”

“…You didn’t send the videos.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm. “I didn’t have my phone on me the whole night. My roommate had it so I’m going to assume she sent them to you on my phone. She’s pretty drunk and probably didn’t know what she was doing.”

“Okay,” he says. “But why were you dancing with that guy?”

“It was just dancing,” you explain. “I didn’t even touch him. But it wouldn’t matter even if I did – you and I aren’t dating.”

“That hurts,” he says and you can practically hear his frown through the phone.

“I mean, it’s true,” you mumble, attempting to sound less harsh than you did before. “I don’t know what we are. And a part of me wants to have a significant other who can walk with me to class and have dinner with me at the dining hall and have study dates with me in the library and dance with me at shitty frat parties. But a bigger part of me wants to be with you. So if you don’t want to be serious I’d appreciate it if you would just tell me now so I can at least attempt to have a relationship with somebody on campus.”

It takes a minute for Tom to respond.

“I can’t walk with you to class,” he starts. “I can’t eat dinner with you in the dining hall or have study dates with you in the library. I can’t dance with you at shitty frat parties either. But I really, really like you and want to date you. And being long distance is going to suck more than anything but I’ll do it for you. I like you that much.”

“And I like you enough to sacrifice all that for you,” you say. “I’d rather have quick Skype calls with you during your lunch break while you’re filming than have a relationship with someone else that I could see in person all the time. Being long distance is going to suck more than anything but I’ll do it for you. I like you that much.”

“So we’re dating?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” he says and you both laugh because you’re overtired and the whole situation is kind of absurd. Months ago you were just a contest winner and now you’re dating Tom Holland.

“Where are you?” you ask.

“London, like usual,” he answers. “Why do you want to know?”

“I mean, like, are you in your place?”

“Yeah.”

“Go outside.”

You hear him slip on a pair of shoes and close the door behind him.

“Look up,” you instruct as you tilt your head back.

“Okay.”

“We’re looking at the same sky,” you tell him. “And I think that’s pretty cool.”

“You’re pretty cool.”

“I think we’re both pretty tired,” you laugh. “Talk to you later?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Sleep well.”

You hang up the phone and go back inside the building. Your roommate is asleep, her steady breathing comforting as you climb into bed, the crack of moonlight that’s coming in through the window lighting up the picture of you and Tom on the wall. It’s the last thing you see before you also fall asleep.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom invites you to come spend New Years with him in London. You finally get the kiss you’ve been waiting months for -- and much more.

“I would like you to come visit me for New Years,” Tom says after you finish ranting about all the studying you still have to do for your finals.

His comment catches you off guard. “What?”

“Finish up your finals,” he explains. “Go home for a little bit, spend the holiday with your family, and then come stay with me until you have to go back for the second semester.”

“Are you serious?”

He nods. “I want to ring in the new year with my favorite person.”

“People,” Harrison corrects him. “I’m going to be there too.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Will you at least think about it?”

“Of course I’ll come,” you say immediately. “I just can’t believe this is my life. Wow.”

He smiles. “Should I mail you your present or should I wait until you’re here to give it to you?”

“Seeing you will be more than enough,” you assure him. “Please don’t get me anything else.”

“Too late,” he says, his smile widening.

You sigh. “I can wait until I’m there.”

“I was hoping you would say that. Now get back to studying. I’ll talk to you later.”

Finals kick your ass but the thought of seeing Tom at the end of the month is more than enough motivation to get you through them. When you’re not studying you’re thinking about what to give Tom. You’re clueless -- there’s absolutely nothing you could get him that Tom wouldn’t already have or be able to get himself.

Sex is what Harrison suggests when you text him about your dilema. But sex isn’t really a present; and besides, it would be just as much as a gift to you as it would be for him.

You spend your time at home recovering from the semester and continuing to think about what to give to Tom. You eventually come up with an idea that you know he’ll appreciate.

You can barely contain your excitement when you feel the wheels of the plane touch the runway in London. You sprint through the airport and practically throw yourself into the backseat of Harrison’s car once you’re outside. He’s in the driver’s seat and Tom is in the backseat with you. You hug even though it’s a bit uncomfortable due to the lack of space and Tom being buckled in.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Tom mumbles against your ear. You pull away to buckle yourself in and Tom entwines your fingers together as Harrison begins to drive. He stops the car in front of the same hotel you stayed at in September.

“I can’t believe you,” you say to Tom, remembering what he said to you during that first dirty Skype call: “Gonna take you to a hotel, the same room you stayed in so I can make it up to you. You’ll finally get your kiss, love -- you’ll get kisses everywhere. Going to spend hours between your legs until you’re absolutely begging for my cock. And then I’ll finally give it to you: while you’re on your back, on your hands and knees, with you on top of me, against the wall.” The memory of his words causes you to shiver as you tell him, “Tom, this is so extra.”

He winks at you. “I got us two rooms so it doesn’t look suspicious. You head up first; I’ll be there in five or so minutes.”

You reluctantly remove your hand from Tom’s, grab your bag, and head to the hotel counter. The person behind the desk gives you a key card for the same room you had been in previously. You take the elevator up, go into the room, and wait for Tom. When the door opens you just smile at each other before you give each other a proper hug.

“Can I give you your present?” you ask after you’ve been holding each other for a few minutes.

He nods. “I’ll have to give you yours later. It hasn’t come in yet.”

You reach into your bag and pull out a piece of paper. You hand it to him and he looks at it, eyes widening as he realizes what it is: an email confirmation of your 1,000 pound donation to Brothers Trust.

“I think it’s amazing that you use your platform to promote something that helps so many people. I was lucky enough to win a contest from Brothers Trust and I realized I didn’t spend any of the money while I was here so I decided to donate it all to the organization.”

The paper flutters to the ground and suddenly his lips are on yours, one of his hands on the back of your head and the other on your waist. Yours go to rest on his chest and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you.

“How’s that for our first kiss?” Tom asks when he pulls away.

You don’t answer him and instead curl one of your hands into a fist into the material of his shirt and pull him against you for another long kiss. When you start to feel breathless, you break away to press your lips down the column of his neck.

“Haz is picking us up for dinner at six,” Tom says, his fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants.

“Take them off,” you say as you pull your shirt over your head and let it fall to the floor.

He gets momentarily distracted by the sight of you in your bra before he remembers the situation at hand and undoes your pants. You shove them down your thighs and step out of them, kicking them to the side as you rid yourself of your shoes. You lay down on the bed and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Your turn,” you grin.

He pulls his shirt off which exposes his perfect chest and stomach. You must look as desperate as you feel because he chuckles as you drops his pants. He teasingly hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, lowering them only enough so you can see more of his v-lines.

“Don’t laugh at me and don’t tease,” you whine, lifting your hips up off the bed so you can also hook your thumbs in the waistband of your underwear.

“Poor baby,” he sympathizes, suddenly pulling down his boxers in one quick motion. Before you have a chance to react to seeing his cock for the first time in person, he’s getting on the bed and spreading your legs.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, pushing away your hands from your underwear so his can take their place.

You nod. Immediately Tom slides the fabric down your legs and circles your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Tom!” you cry out, one hand gripping the blanket beneath you and the other tangling into his hair.

He gives you a smirk that lets you know that he wasn’t joking around when he said that he was going to spend hours between your legs until you’re absolutely begging for his cock.

Three hours and countless orgasms later, Tom only stops eating you out because his phone vibrates due to a text from Harrison.

“Fuck,” he swears, getting up off of the bed. “Harrison’s here. We lost track of time.”

You groan. You haven’t had the chance to touch him at all and while the feeling of his mouth against you is fantastic, you really want to give him a blowjob and finally have him inside of you.

“Later,” he promises, covering up his achingly hard cock with his boxers. You reluctantly get off the bed and let out an exaggerated sigh as you redress yourself.

“You look like you’ve just had several orgasms,” he says, looking proud of himself.

“And you look like you’ve just given someone several orgasms.” Pulling on his hair has messed it up and you attempt to flatten it.

He kisses your cheek. “You go first.”

You take the elevator to the lobby and slide into the backseat of Harrison’s car again.

He cranes his head so he can look at you and smirks.

“Shut up,” you glare at him.

Tom joins you in the backseat a few minutes later. Harrison drives to this obscure restaurant-bar hybrid with really dim lighting so Tom or him won’t be recognized.

You spend several hours talking and laughing over drinks and delicious food, Tom’s hand resting on your inner thigh the entire time. When Harrison gets up to use the bathroom, you bring your thighs together to squish Tom’s hand in between them.

He looks at you innocently. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” you sigh. “You’re teasing me. Your cock hasn’t been in me yet and it’s making me sad.”

“Poor baby. Just a little longer,” he says, squeezing your thigh comfortingly. “The anticipation will make it even better.”

It’s just you, Tom, Harrison, and Tessa back at Tom’s place after dinner and though you’re playing various card and board games so his hand isn’t on your thigh, the teasing hasn’t stopped. He’s constantly looking at you suggestively and biting his lips, giving you a playful wink when he catches you staring at him. He pulls you into a kiss at 11:59 and doesn’t pull away until Harrison clears his throat.

“It’s 12:02. You can stop now.”

You feel a little embarrassed that you’ve just spent the last three minutes making out with your boyfriend in front of his best friend but mostly you feel like you’ve just had the greatest beginning to a new year ever.

“Have fun you two,” Harrison says, giving Tessa one last pat on the head before he stands up, grabs his jacket, and leaves.

There’s a minute where you and Tom are just looking at each other until he takes your hand and pulls both of you to your feet. He guides you to his bedroom and turns on the light.

“I’ve been waiting for this all night,” he says, taking his shirt off.

“Your damn fault,” you say while you take off your own. “You could’ve had me in the hotel but nooooo. You had to tease me for nearly three hours.”

He laughs and puts his hands on your shoulders, rotating you so your back is to him. He unhooks your bra and presses kisses to your neck and back. Letting the straps fall down your arms and to the floor, he cups the newly exposed skin in his hands and squeezes gently.

“No more teasing,” you say as you twist back in his arms, kissing him as you work on taking off his pants. His hands drop to your waist and he does the same to you.

You break apart to push your pants and underwear down your legs and kick them off to the side, the floor now littered with two shirts, a bra, two pairs of pants, and two pairs of underwear.

You gently push him onto the bed and straddle his hips. He looks up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth and the sight is so sexy that you nearly sink down onto his cock right then but he’s not wearing a condom yet and…

“Okay, maybe a little teasing,” you grin, sliding down his body, your lips tracing a straight line from the base of his throat to just below his belly button. You run the tip of one finger up and down the length of his cock, his hips gently thrusting up each time you touch a particularly sensitive spot.

“Please,” he whines, voice cracking a little. “Don’t do this.”

“I’m only doing what you did to me. I think that’s fair.”

He props himself up on his elbows so you can see him better between his legs. He’s practically pouting, eyes all big and soft.

“...Fine.” You admit defeat and Tom’s instantly pulling you back up towards him, flipping the position so he is now hovering over you.

“Thank you.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead and reaches for a condom. Once it’s on properly he slides two of his fingers through your folds. He looks at his wet fingers in amazement.

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” he says.

“You did something six hours ago and you’ve had me on edge ever since. Come on, Tommy, let’s ring in the new year.”

He smiles and carefully guides his cock into you. He’s holding his breath the entire time but he exhales once he’s in all the way.

“Don’t be nervous,” you say, sliding your hands down his back, feeling the muscles beneath your fingertips.

He slowly starts to rock his hips and you tilt your head back into his pillows. He takes this opportunity to kiss and suck at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Tom,” you gasp, starting to meet his thrusts. “More.”

He adjusts the angle a little bit and moves more forcefully, causing the bed to shake and your eyes to close.

“So good,” he pants, moving one of his hands between your two bodies so he can rub your clit as he thrusts. “You’re making me feel so good, love. Sending pictures and hearing your voice is great, but it’s nothing compared to have you here all warm and wet and tight around me.”

“Gonna come,” you say, your nails digging into his back in a way that causes him to let out the most perfect moan.

“Me too.”

With a few more thrusts and gentle touches to your clit, you come hard. You can tell that Tom has also come when he swears and says your name, his hips stilling as he spills himself into the condom.

He rolls off of you and discards the condom. You both lay on your backs for several minutes just catching your breath before you lean over to kiss his cheek. 

“I’m going to the bathroom. Don’t fall asleep without me.”

Not bothering with putting your clothes back on, you walk down the hallway to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. Tom is on his phone when you return to the bedroom so you decide to check your own. You have a notification from a minute ago that tomholland2013 has posted a new photo on Instagram.

Clicking on the notification takes you immediately to the photo. It was clearly taken while you were in the bathroom because Tom is shirtless in it and looking like he had just gotten laid. His caption wishes everyone a happy and safe start to 2019.

“‘Omg fuck me,’” you read one of the comments out loud, getting back into bed beside him.

“You already did,” he laughs, setting his phone to the side so he can devote all his attention to you.

“Maybe I could do it again?” you suggest. “Just one more time before we fall asleep.”

He nods eagerly and reaches for you, pulling you on top of him. He glides his hands up and down your sides as you reach for another condom.

“Of course,” he says just before you lean down to kiss him.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and you have a fun domestic morning at his place before he takes you to a familiar spot to give you your holiday gift.

The sunlight peeking through the blinds causes you to wake up from your pleasant sleep. Tom’s already awake and propped up against the headboard, looking at something on his phone.

“Mmm, sorry,” you yawn. “Jet lag.”

“We went for four rounds last night,” he smiles. “I think you would’ve been pretty exhausted even without the jet lag.”

You roll your eyes and adjust yourself so you’re sitting up and facing him. The sheets and blankets pool around your hips, exposing your still naked upper half to him.

“I did some damage,” he says, putting his fingers underneath your chin and tilting your head up.

You place your hand on top of his and guide it to your chest. He gives you a playful grope and leans in for a kiss. which you allow him to do for a minute before you pull away.

“More kisses,” he frowns.

You peck his lips and slide down the length of the bed. You push the blankets that are covering him to the side and find yourself eye-level with his half-hard cock.

“Can I finally give you some foreplay?” you ask teasingly, brushing your lips against the skin of his inner thigh.

He nods so eagerly that he bumps the back of his head against the headboard.

“Ow.”

“Dork,” you giggle and lick from the base of his cock to the tip.

He breathes in sharply. “More.”

“So greedy.” Your lips curl into a smile against his cock and you guide him into your mouth with your hand. You push yourself into a position that allows you more control to take him down your throat.

One of Tom’s hands leaves his side to rest on the back of your head. He’s not pushing down on it to fuck your throat (although you absolutely would let him do that) but instead it’s a rather comforting reminder that he is there and that he could, in fact, control your mouth around him if he really wanted to. The thought makes you moan around him and you press your thighs together. Tom takes notice of this.

“Does sucking me off make you feel good?” he asks, stroking his thumb against the top of your head.

You nod.

“Good,” he praises. “I feel my best when you’re also enjoying yourself.”

You pull off of him and pump his cock with your hand so he’s still being pleasured while you speak.

“That’s really sweet but let’s just focus on you for right now.”

You go right back to sucking his cock with more determination, your lips sliding up and down while your tongue twists around him.

“Gonna come,” he says shakily but you don’t move from your spot. He realizes what you’re trying to communicate -- that you want him to come in your mouth -- and he bites down hard on his lower lip as he does just that.

You wait until he finishes completely and then you pull off him, wiping your mouth with the back of his hand.

“Wow,” Tom says in awe. “That was incredible. Thank you.”

You have some fun together in the shower. You eat a quick breakfast wrapped in your towels and brush your teeth at the same time, making funny faces at each other in the mirror while you get foam from the toothpaste all over your chin.

Tom insists on helping you get dressed. He struggles with hooking your bra but eventually gets it. He assists you with stepping into your pants and buttons and zips them for you. He gives you a kiss when your head pops through the hole in your shirt. Something about the whole process feels more intimate than when he was helping to undress you just hours before.

“One last thing,” he says, opening his closet to grab something. He returns with the plaid scarf that he wore to visit the Grady Burn Center with Harrison and drapes it around your neck. “Now you’re ready for the cold London weather.”

“But you’re not,” you say, eyes roaming up and down his whole body. “You’re still naked.”

“Guess I should change that.”

“I suppose you should,” you let out an exaggerated sigh and help him get dressed. You smooth a wrinkle out of his shirt and he takes your hand.

“Come on, let’s go.”

You and Tom put on your coats and he guides you out of his place and to the car. He drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the center console so yours can rest on top of it.

He parks the car at a familiar place which makes you smile.

“I need a rematch,” he says and leads you into the same arcade you had been in before. He takes you right to the table you had used previously and inserts the coins. Tom puts something on the table -- not the puck -- and nudges it with the striker, causing it to glide delicately over to your side of the table.

You blink down at the little black box that’s now in front of you.

“Open it,” he says. You glance up at him and he’s nervously shifting from foot to foot, rubbing his lips together. It’s cute.

You pick up the velvet covered box and open it. Inside is a silver spiderweb charm on a chain, the letter T in the middle of the web.

“Because you’ve caught me like a spider in your web,” Tom explains, approaching you. He takes the necklace out of the box and stands behind you so he can clasp it around you. “I also realize that I totally forgot to give you a proper thank you yesterday for your gift.”

“I think eating me out for hours counts as a proper thank you,” you whisper and Tom laughs against your ear.

“A verbal thank you, then,” he continues. “I feel so lucky to have gotten a chance to meet and adore someone who is not only beautiful on the outside, but also on the inside. There’s so many things you could have spent that money on but you donated it back to an organization that I’m so passionate about and that means everything to me. I’m so damn lucky.”

You turn around to face him and wrap your arms around his middle.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you say.

“Maybe we both are.”

You remain hugging for a little bit before you pull away to look at him expectantly. “Get on your side of the table. This is amazing and I love it,” you reach up to touch the necklace, “but I still want to kick your ass at air hockey again.”


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your plans for the summer change suddenly when you don’t get a good grade in one of your classes and have to retake it as a summer class. Everything is going okay until an exposé is published about your relationship with Tom just days before the premiere of Spider-Man: Far From Home.

Your second semester of school flies by even faster than the first semester did. Maintaining a long distance relationship with one of the world’s current most popular actors, keeping up with all of your classes, and finding time for anything else is not an easy feat but you manage. At least you think you do.

“Yes!” your roommate exclaims loudly which startles you from packing up things on your desk. “Grades were just uploaded.”

She’s been refreshing her laptop browser for the last hour and a half, eagerly waiting to see what her final grades are. You’re not too worried so you’ve decided to get some packing done but you figure a five minute break to check your grades won’t hurt.

You open up your laptop, log into your student account, and click the link that will take you to your grades.

“Holy fuck,” you say, staring at the one unimpressive letter in front of your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” your roommate asks.

“I, uh.” You swallow hard, your throat suddenly feeling dry. “I got a D.”

She’s silent for a moment. “Ah, well...at least that’s a passing grade?”

You shake your head. “It’s a class for my major -- it doesn’t count. I don’t get credit. Fuck.”

She instantly tries to do some damage control. “What’s the course number? I’ll see if they’re offering it over the summer.”

You tell her the number and close your eyes as she does a search. This can’t be happening.

“They’re offering it over the summer,” she says. “It’s going to be okay. You can just take it again without disrupting your four-year plan.”

“Summer classes are so expensive. And it costs a lot of money to stay on campus during the summer, too -- I can’t afford that.”

“Move in with Andrew and me,” she says. “We’ve already signed the lease for an apartment nearby. He’s taking a couple of summer classes to get ahead and I’m staying in the area for my internship with the local newspaper. We were going to look for a third person to split the apartment with anyway.”

“Who’s Andrew?”

“That guy that tried to ask you out last semester,” she says. “We, uh, took a class together this semester and we’ve been dating for a few months. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be weird.”

You haven’t really talked to Andrew since that party in November. That’s why you don’t remember his name -- who needs Andrew when your boyfriend is Tom Holland?

“Could I? Is that okay?” you ask.

She smiles at you. “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t okay.”

So you move from your dorm room into a cute little apartment down the street with your roommate and your roommate’s boyfriend, who just so happens to be the same guy who asked you out on a date during your first semester. The first month together goes smoothly despite this: you enjoy meals together at the tiny kitchen table, you have movie marathons, you binge-watch Netflix.

It’s the end of June when shit hits the fan.

You wake up to the consistent buzzing of your phone which is extremely annoying; it’s a Friday and you’d like to sleep in because your class only meets on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

Normally when you post a selfie or something you’ll wake up with a few hundred notifications -- some of Tom’s fans still like and comment on every new picture you post despite the contest being nearly ten months ago. But you haven’t posted a picture recently which is what confuses you.

You unlock your phone and check Instagram to see what all the fuss is about since that’s where the majority of the notifications are coming from. Tom Holland fan accounts are tagging you in photos, which isn’t anything new, but it’s the actual photos that they’re tagging you in that make your heart skip a beat. They’re photos that nobody would have access to except for you and Tom.

Tom kissing your cheek. You kissing his. Your fingers intertwined. A selfie you took with Tom and Tessa. All photos you had taken together when you visited for New Years and had printed out on special paper in the school library so you could put them on your wall next to your signed picture with him.

Your first thought is that someone hacked into the school’s printing system somehow and released the photos on Tumblr or maybe one of the Reddit threads that has to do with Marvel. But then you notice that all the comments on the pictures are talking about some sort of article. You figure that doing some investigating will be easier to do on a bigger screen so you grab your laptop and do a search in Google for ‘tom holland girlfriend 2019.’

The first result is for some magazine that you have never heard of. The article in particular, titled “Tom Holland Has A Secret Girlfriend...OMG!” was evidently posted three hours ago. You click on the link and immediately begin to read.

Move over Zendaya...Tom Holland’s got a new girl! But is she really that new?

Her name is Y/F/N Y/L/N and she’s a student at Y/C/N. You may recognize her from this picture--

There’s a break in the paragraph to show the picture of you and Tom that Nikki had taken on the day you visited the Far From Home set.

\--because she was the winner from a contest put on by an organization created by the Holland family back in the summer of 2018. Holland and Y/L/N started a long distance relationship in the fall and she spent a portion of her winter vacation at his place in London.

There’s another picture. This time it’s you and Tom laying in his bed post-sex. Both of you are topless and while the sheets are covering your chest, it’s pretty obvious that you two had just been at it: your hair is disheveled and your lips are more colored than normal from kissing. Beads of sweat glisten on Tom’s hairline and there’s a lovely flush across his cheeks as he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder.

You’re instantly infuriated. How fucking dare someone post such an intimate picture of you two without your permission? You scroll back up to the top of the page instead of continuing to read and your eyes widen with surprise when you find the byline.

You push yourself off of your bed and throw open the door of your tiny bedroom. Your heart is beating fast as you check the small living room and kitchen. The bathroom door is open and nobody is in the shower. Without a second thought you throw open their bedroom door, not caring what you’ll find on the other side.

But that’s empty too. There’s no sign of her or him.

“Fuck!” you swear loudly, tears starting to spill from your eyes. You fist your hands into your hair and let out an angry scream. “How fucking could she?”

You double over onto the floor like you’ve been punched in the stomach. You’re pretty sure a punch would hurt less than this betrayal of trust from a person you thought was your friend. You continue to cry and scream, pounding your fists against the carpeted floor. You’re grateful that nobody lives below you.

You stop crying when you hear the sound of your phone ringing in your bedroom. You pick yourself up off of the floor and sulk to your room, a whole new wave of tears coming over you when you see that it’s Tom who’s calling.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob into the phone, trying to control your voice the best you can. “Tommy, I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” he says and even though you feel like the world is falling apart, his voice still manages to comfort you.

“I didn’t know she would,” you take a deep shaky breath. “I don’t know why…”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he says. “It happened and now we have to do some damage control. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m not okay.”

He sighs. “I mean, like, I wanted to make sure she didn’t have a knife to you or something.”

“She doesn’t. I can’t even find her. She’s not in the apartment.”

“You need to get out of there,” he advises. “I don’t want there to be a confrontation between you two. Go to a coffee shop or a park or something. Just get out of the apartment before she gets back.”

You put Tom on speakerphone as you get ready to leave.

“How do we do damage control?” you ask.

“I’ll take care of it,” he says. “I’m going to talk to everyone I know and see what they think I should do because babe, I know it might sound like I know what I’m doing, but I totally don’t. I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before and I want to get advice on what to do.”

“So what do I do?”

“I need you to wait,” he says. “Don’t reply to anything yet. I’ll text you as soon as I figure out what to do.”

“Fuck, Tom, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault so stop apologizing. Lay low for a little bit. I’ll send you a message as soon as I come up with a plan.”

“Okay,” you say. “I can do that.”

“Good.” You can hear him smile through the phone despite the stressful situation. “I’ll talk to you later.”

You hang up the phone and dry your eyes off with the sleeves on your shirt. You grab your phone charger, apartment keys, and bag before heading out the door. Your feet lead you to a little coffee place not too far away and you sit at a table in the back, attempting to distract yourself with games on your phone as you impatiently wait for Tom’s message.

_What do you think about joining me for the movie premiere on Monday?_

Your fingers dance across your phone screen as you write back your reply of: _That’s the plan you’ve come up with?_

_Will you or won’t you? Harrison’s already arranged for an Uber to pick you up and drive you to the airport and if we don’t cancel it within the next minute they’ll still charge him._

_Yes_ , you type back. _Yes. I’ll go with you._

_Good. See you tonight, love._


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Tom attend the movie premiere for Spider-Man: Far From Home and make your first public appearance as a couple.

Tom is waiting for you when you reach the part of the airport where friends, family, and anyone who hasn’t gone through security can wait for their loved ones. It’s an odd hour of the night so the airport is fairly empty and it doesn’t really matter if people see you two together anyway -- that secret’s already been revealed. You throw yourself into his arms and hug him for a long while.

“You must be so tired,” he says when you finally break apart.

You are. The day has been absolutely exhausting from you being woken up earlier than you anticipated and crying your eyes out. Travel is tiring enough on its own but it’s even worse when you’ve spent the entire day cycling through sadness, anger, and embarrassment.

He takes your hand and guides you out of the airport. He brings you back to his place and you muster up enough energy to pet Tessa when she greets you at the door.

It takes everything you have not to fall asleep in Tom’s shower. You had left a set of sleeping clothes at Tom’s during your stay at the beginning of the year and you change into them, launching yourself into his bed immediately after.

You’re far too tired for sex and neither of you are in a particular sexy mood so you just cuddle with your back pressed to his chest and his arm around you.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, lips grazing the back of your neck. You attempt to say something in return but you’re just too tired as you fall asleep against him.

You wake up many hours later. Tom has gotten out of bed and Tessa has taken his place. You grab your phone, snuggle close to her, and send a Snapchat to Tom of the two of you. He opens it almost instantly, screenshots it, and appears in the doorway.

“It’s almost noon,” he says, coming around the bed to kiss your cheek. “How’d you sleep?”

“Excellently,” you say, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head.

“I know you haven’t been awake for too long but we need to talk about the premiere.” He sits on the bed beside you. “A lot of the fans already know who you are. I’ve seen the comments on your photos -- a lot of people already adore you. But they don’t know you as my girlfriend.”

“I’ve never been to a movie premiere,” you say. “And I’ve certainly never been to one as the leading man’s girlfriend. I don’t know what to do.”

“You just need to be yourself,” he says. “We’ll get you dressed in something nice so we’ll be the hottest duo there. We’ll answer questions, watch the movie, and go home.”

You blink at him. “I don’t exactly have anything to wear to a movie premiere. I left so abruptly that I don’t even have non-movie premiere clothes with me.”

“I’ve got people taking care of that.” He places his hand on your shoulder and trails it down your arm until he’s holding your hand. “I’m making sure that everything is going to go as smoothly as possible. Do you trust me?”

You nod.

“Good.” He lifts your hand up to his mouth and brushes his lips across your knuckles. “We have the rest of today and all of tomorrow to ourselves. What should we do?”

“Stay in bed,” you suggest, pulling him in for a kiss.

The makeover they give you isn’t one that causes you not to be able to recognize yourself in the mirror. In fact, it’s not really a makeover at all -- they’ve just enhanced you. Your eyes look brighter, your skin is smoother, and every hair is falling into place perfectly.

They dress you in a breathtaking outfit. It fits perfectly and you wonder how many people it took to modify the garment to your measurements with just a couple days of notice. The stylists have finished their work and now you’re alone, smoothing the material over your hips in an effort to keep your hands occupied with something when Tom comes in the room.

“They did even better than I expected,” he says, looking you up and down.

“Hmm?”

“I asked them to keep you natural,” he explains. “You’re so beautiful already and I didn’t want to change that. I also picked out what you’re wearing.”

“I didn’t know you had such an eye for fashion.” You step closer to him, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his stomach, right where his black tie ends. “You look pretty good yourself. I wish you could take me right here.”

He licks his lips. “We’ll have celebratory sex when we get home, promise.”

“What if the premiere doesn’t go well?”

“It will,” he assures you. “But on the off chance that it doesn’t go well, we’ll still have sex. It just won’t be celebratory.”

Tom brought his family along to the event just like he did with the release of Homecoming. Nikki gushes over how beautiful you look and takes a few pictures of you and Tom together.

When it’s time to head over to the venue where the actual movie screening is taking place, Tom helps you into the backseat of a limo and reality suddenly hits you hard when you can see the red carpet out of the tinted windows.

“Oh my god,” you say, curling your fingers into the seats as if to anchor yourself. “I can’t believe this is happening. What the hell. I can’t believe all of this came from me winning a contest.”

He places his hand on your leg and rubs his thumb in circles against your kneecap.

“It’s okay,” he says for what has to be the 250th time that day. “It’ll all be okay. They’ll love you because I--”

The door on Tom’s side slides open, interrupting his sentence. He reluctantly removes his hand from you and gets out, straightening his suit jacket as the cameras start flashing. The driver walks around the vehicle and opens your door for you and you get out as gracefully as possible and join Tom on his side of the limo. His hand settles on your waist and you relax into his touch, smiling as a sea of cameras takes the first “official” photos of you and Tom as a couple. 

He goes forward to be interviewed about the movie and his brothers come over to you to keep you company. Harry is teasing you about the more ~scandalous~ photo that was posted in that article when Tom beckons you over.

“Hey, love,” he greets you, wrapping his arm around your waist again. “They’re going to ask questions about us. Is that okay with you?”

You nod.

“Excellent!” The interviewer smiles brightly at you two, microphone clasped between her hands. “So. Y/N, did you expect that this would happen when you got notification that you won the Brothers Trust contest last summer?”

“Absolutely not,” you answer, the feeling of Tom’s hand giving you confidence. “The fact that I won the contest is unreal, let alone that I’m dating him now.”

“Aww!” she says. “Tom, what did you think when you saw her for the first time?”

“I thought she was beautiful,” he says. “She still is beautiful.”

You smile at him.

“This isn’t the way we planned to be introduced as a couple to the world,” Tom continues. “But Y/N and I, you know, we roll with the punches. We’ve done seven months of long distance with me filming and her as a full-time student. We can get through anything and the publishing of this tabloid doesn’t really phase us at all. There’s no one else I’d rather go through this situation with because I...” He takes a deep breath. “I love her.”

Your eyes widen at his last three words.

“You’ve never…”

“I know,” he says. “But I mean it. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say.

It’s as if there’s not an interviewer in front of you or over a dozen cameras and god knows how many people looking in your general direction when you go in for a kiss. It’s short and sweet but it’s meaningful and you could just about burst into tears when you pull away and see how Tom is looking at you adoringly and like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“Ready to go watch the movie?” He offers you his hand.

You take it in your own and give it a gentle squeeze. “Yeah.”


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The premiere was successful so you and Tom celebrate with sex filled with ‘I love you’s. Afterwards he does a livestream on Instagram to address further questions his fans might have. When that ends, you tell Tom about your plans for the future.

Tom has you pressed up against the door, one of his legs in between both of yours and his lips attacking your neck.

“I love you,” he mumbles against your skin.

You spin around so now he’s the one pressed to the door.

“I love you,” you say, fingers hurriedly working to undo the knot of his tie. You let it fall to the ground and push his suit jacket off of his shoulders, the material falling to the floor with a gentle thud as your fingers attack the buttons of the shirt he’s wearing underneath.

“I love you.” He spins you around so your back is to his chest. You can feel how hard he is through his dress pants as he pulls down the zipper on the back of your outfit.

“I love you.” You spin back around and finish taking off his shirt, sliding your hands all over the newly exposed skin of his arms, shoulders, and chest.

Tom practically rips your clothes off the rest of your body which you scold him for because holy shit you don’t even want to begin to think about how much your entire look costs. He pouts but he’s more careful after that and soon both of you are completely naked.

He leans down and you assume that he’s going to pick up the discarded clothes but instead he hoists you over his shoulder and races to his bedroom.

“Tom!” you laugh as he tosses you on the bed and immediately crawls over you.

“I love you,” he says, lowering his head to kiss you.

You kiss him back and reach for the box of condoms that you know he keeps on his nightstand.

“I love you,” you say when you push him off you and into a sitting position so you can roll the condom onto his length.

“I love you.” He pulls you into his lap and holds himself by the base while you lower yourself onto him.

“I love you,” you gasp, clutching his shoulders and rolling your hips at the familiar feeling of him inside you. “I love you and your cock, holy fuck, you feel amazing.”

He laughs and you use his shoulders as leverage to raise and then lower yourself back onto him repeatedly.

“I love you and your whole body.” He trails one hand from your ankle that is folded underneath you up to your calf, the side of your thigh, the curve of your ass, and up your back until his fingers are curled around your neck to bring you down for a kiss.

“I love you,” you say, breathless from the kiss. “I love more than just your cock, too. These fucking lips…” You trail off, outlining his bottom lip with your thumb. He licks it playfully as he moves his own thumb to your clit. “Fuck, Tommy, I’m close.”

“Already?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You looked so good in that suit, you can’t blame me,” you say. “Your hand on my leg during the entire movie, hearing your American accent…”

He grins, licking his lips as his thumb’s assault on your clit shows no signs of stopping.

“You like the accent, baby?” He says in the accent itself and your hands cup the sides of his face and you lean your forehead against his as you come around him.

“Y-Yes!”

“Just like that...oh, fuck!” he exclaims, his sentence starting in his American accent but back to normal once he reaches the expletive. He comes hard and presses kisses to your neck and chest all throughout his orgasm.

You push yourself off of him and collapse onto the bed. Tom discards the condom and lays next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and rolling you into his body so your head can rest on his chest. You absentmindedly trace patterns on his torso as you do nothing else but listen to each other’s breathing.

“I love you,” you both say at the same time which causes you and him to laugh. 

“I want to do a livestream on Instagram,” he says as he runs his fingertips along the top of your head. “So people can see us in a more natural setting.”

You crane your head so you can look at him. “When do you want to do that?”

“I was thinking right now.”

“Tom, we’re literally naked.”

He laughs again. “Okay. After we get dressed.”

You help each other get dressed in some more comfortable clothing, fix each other’s hair so it doesn’t look like you just had sex, and get the camera’s position and room lighting just right before he goes live on Instagram.

It takes only seconds for people to join the stream as millions of Tom’s followers get a notification that he’s gone live. Comments scroll across the screen so fast that you don’t have time to read any of them.

“Hey guys!” Tom says, waving his hand to all the viewers. “We just got back from the premiere of Spider-Man: Far From Home. The movie came together brilliantly. You guys are going to love it.

“But, ah, that’s not what I’m here to talk about. As you can see, I have a very special guest joining me.”

“Hi,” you say timidly, waving to the screen.

“I know probably everyone has seen the article that was published about us last Friday,” he continues. “And everyone has probably watched the red carpet interviews from tonight or has at least seen people talking about what happened. I just wanted to pop on here so you can see us just, you know, being us. Ask questions or whatever...but keep it appropriate!”

Naturally not everyone listens to Tom. Many people ask about your sexlife, others are thirsting over Tom like normal, but now there’s some people thirsting after you or both of you together.

“‘What about Tomdaya? Z looked so pretty at tonight’s premiere!’” you read the comment out loud.

“Zendaya and I are friends,” Tom explains. “She looked beautiful, yeah. And so did Y/N! The great thing about life is that more than one person can be beautiful at a time and both Zendaya and Y/N totally are.”

“She looked gorgeous,” you add. “Zendaya is amazing. I don’t want people to pit me and her against each other. We get along great.”

Tom beams at you.

“See, this is exactly why I love her,” he says, draping an arm across your shoulders.

People in the comments are trying to mesh your names together cohesively when Tom picks another comment to read.

“‘You would have fallen in love with anyone who won the Brothers Trust contest,’” he says then pauses. “I don’t think so. But I also don’t have to dwell on it because no one else but her won the contest, so…”

“‘I already knew that you two were dating. Ya’ll ain’t slick,’” you read. The comment is accompanied by several laugh-crying emojis and a link to a Tumblr blog post. You grab your own phone and go to the link. “‘Proof that Tom Holland and That Girl Who Won the Brothers Trust Contest are Dating.’”

“‘That girl’ has a name,” Tom says. “What’s the proof?”

“‘Exhibit 1: Tom gave her his scarf as you can see here in an Instagram picture that Y/N posted in February.”

The picture to accompany the sentence does indeed show a picture that your roommate had taken of you outside with you wearing Tom’s scarf. Besides the picture of you is a picture of Tom wearing the same scarf.

“Damn,” you say. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“Exhibit 2,” Tom reads from your phone. “There is no other reason that Tom would be wearing a shirt from the college Y/N goes to unless they were in a relationship.”

The photo is of Tom heading to set. It’s been taken from pretty far away but the writer of the post has also provided a zoomed-in photo of the shirt. It’s a little blurry but you can clearly make out the name of your school.

“I’ve never even seen this picture,” you say. “Where’d you get a shirt from my school?”

Tom shrugs. “I ordered it online. Wanted to represent my girl but Haz said I shouldn’t wear it out in public in case, you know, this happened.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Nice going.”

Tom scrolls to read more of the “exhibits” but it just ends with: ‘Tom and Y/N are dating. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.’

“Wow,” he says. “I can’t believe someone proved our relationship with two pictures.”

“Your fans are smart,” you laugh.

He smiles. “Yeah. They are.”

You two talk back and forth with commenters for a little bit before Tom announces that he’s had a long day (which is very true) and that he should be getting some sleep. He says goodbye to them and promises to do another livestream again soon.

“I think that went well,” you say after Tom ends the stream.

“Me too.” He kisses your forehead.

“I, uh, kinda wanted to tell you this in a more dramatic fashion but I feel like now is the perfect time,” you say.

He looks at you curiously.

“I’ve been thinking about studying abroad next year,” you continue. “As I’ve fallen in love with you I’ve also fallen in love with London as well. I put in the paperwork to do this upcoming year of college at Kingston University London and, well, I was accepted.

“I wasn’t completely sure that I was going to go through with it but after this whole thing with my roommate...I just need to get away from there for a little bit. But don’t think that I’m going to school here just to be close to you! I’m going there for my education and I still want to maintain a normal college life by living on campus. You’re just a bonus.”

Tom stares at you with wide, excited eyes for a minute and a smile spreading across his face.

“Oh my god,” he says as he pulls you into a hug. “I’m so proud of you, love. I can’t believe you’re going to be closer to me.”

You smile against his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You remain like that for a couple of minutes until you pull away to look at him.

“You know, you looked awfully cute in that shirt from my school…”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Did I?”

You nod. “Wanna put it on for me so I can take it off right after?”

“Yes!” he says, already racing towards his closet to find it. You laugh at his eagerness. 

Something tells you that you’re not going to be sleeping anytime soon.


End file.
